The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1887-08-15
SPUN BY A RARE OLD SALT.
The Yarn of the Dying Pirate and His
Revelation
From, the Letctston Journal.

i
Revelation.
From the LeiCiSto1t Journal
There are still some rare old salts surviv-
ing. They are not all dead who can spin
forecastle yarns until ghosts troop out of
the twilight. Now and then Journal re-
porter finds one of these genial old sea gods,
whose heart seems never to have got am ong
the breakers. Encountering whom, at the
felicitous after supper hour, when the
smoke of the ancient mariners pipe curis
around his weather beaten summit, the re-
porter never fails to find the open sesame to
whole realms of beguiling legends, full of
talented ghosts and witches.
A day or two since, Journal reporter,
addicted to seat coast superstitiOns, encOun-
tered venerable old sinner, i'll the midst OF
his cod lines and dory, swinging in the tide
and smoking. His hair was unkempt and
his beard shaggy. A low forehead projected
over two small eyes, in whose immediate
vicinity nose thrust itself out like a ridge
pole. Prominent jaws. bow legs and an oil
| cloth suit completed his more salient fea-
lures. This odd specimen of humanity had
just returned in his frail skiif from a six
mile voyage out into the open sea-a skiff
evidently designed to produce drowning
tragedy. But this old salt was not born to
be drowned. He belongs to an alien race.
Possibly the Jumblies are his kith and kin.
| Far away, far away,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a sieve
Gradually our old salt kndled into con-
versation, and as his memory was moved
upon he began to unroll his budget of yarns,
one of which has a local flavor and will be
OF interest to our readers.
1T is now many years agone," said the
old man, 'whcn | was at a Western Indian
| DOrL taking n cargo | WAS shore one
day when a man came to me and said:
There is an old Teller a-dying down i'll that
| loft, and he's sent for yOu-he says he wants
to see you very much OF course | was
dumbfounded to think dyin' man should
want to have a swearin' old cllsS like me
a-ministerin' at his dyin' piller; but you bet
l wouldn't refuse to go, and | was curious,
too, you may be sartln, to know just what it
| all meant. The messenger took me up crazy
old set O stairs and opened a door into what
seemed to be hay loft full of litter In
one corner OF the roOm on pile o straw,
laid the dyin' man. WALL l went up close
to his side, and the Teller who had led me to
him told him | was the man he wanted.
| The dyin' man stretched out his arm Kind
o. clammy like, and motioned me to kneel
down by him / began to feel kinder queer.
for | was afraid he wanted me to do some
prayin', and my hand had been out for
many year.
Il can do almost anything" says l, "but
pray"
Il don't want no praying" replied the
man in husky whisper. live a secret |
want to confde to you"
My curiosity was now at its height.
well" says !, Ego on"
81 bent down close to his face, and thus
the dying man continnered: L was for
many years pirate, and | was the terror of
the New England coast. / heard there was
vessel here from Boothbay, and | told
this man to send me one of her crew as
soon as he could He has brought you here
as | requested Here the pirates breath
grew so short that was afeard he wouldn't
be able TO continner-but after a few
moments his eyes again opened, and he thus
began:
''Of course if you are from Boothbay
you know Squirrel Island"
You bet all your old boots, l do" says !.
do you know the old Southwest Cover"
asked the pirate.
''Many's the time I've filled my barrels
with water there" says l.
Eyes" continued the pirate, there's as
fine a Twin spring of water there as ever
run down hill. Now, I'm a-coming to the
pint. Within a stones throw of that spring
there is pine tree, or there was twenty-five
years ago. It's many year since I've been
there, and now the tree may be gone; but
if its gone perhaps there's Il stump there to
mark it,
The pirates breath again failed him, and
he stopped once more and closed his eyes.
waited still moment, but could see he
had not passed in his checks, for his breast
heaved, now and then. a leetle shade let
the poor wretch take his time, and after per-
haps ten minutes he continued
| Let me see-l was tal1in' of that pine
tree. Well, it was stones throw, sou soul
east of that spring. Perhaps you may think
this is all u dyin' mans dream but | tell Won
inst Slf.a
Spring Cove
The dying man, with almost preternatu-
raj force, here almost arose in his bed and
beckoned me nearer, clutching the straw
with his hands, he almost shrieked out these
words:
under that old stump is pot O. money
Take il and keep it for your own. 1t was
stolen from the hard working people of the
coast, and it should 20 to their descendants"
With these words the old pirate fell back
on the straw. His breath grew shorter and
shorter, and in a few moments the old
wreck went to pieces agin the breakers o.
the world to come"
The old tar here pulled away at his pipe
with great diligence, and looked out of his
two little round eyes, as if he was himself
n highly endowed pagan-a blood relation
of the Centaur of Pemaquid
"Well, y at length the reporter interrupted
-'what came of il"
Az an ""ilO " IA sihohe, IepHeu une
Kraken, exhausting a tremendous volume
out of his pipe. Il came home, and Just
for the fun of it thought | would go down
TO Squirrel Island and find the pot o money
found the stump just where the old pirate
said should, and with AK and shovel and
crowbar went at 1t. l dug-and dug-and
dug-till | spoiled the finest stump there
ever was on Squirrel Island, but have had
to keep on fishing ever since didn't even
find the pot, not TO speak o the money
When | first began to dig | expected to hear
the doubloons rattle; but my faith slipped
up more and moro, the more dug. II was
wet spring morning, and was mud from
head to foot before got through. At last
! got discouraged, but never fairly got the
idea out o my old pate that there is still a
pot O money somewhere near that old